Keeping Score

by Alyssa Kale

  A dark apartment greets me, Kendall not back from her night out with friends from work. Tossing my things on the counter, I decide to take a quick shower and move about the apartment, realizing this is the first time since I caught Jared with Maddie that I’ve been truly alone. Starting this week, I’ll be living alone, so I might as well get used to it.

  After my shower, I settle on the bed with my e-reader and my current book. I’m determined to finish this story tonight, even if I’m up until two in the morning. Just as the hero finally realizes his love for the woman he’s been avoiding for six chapters, my phone pings with a notification.

  Unknown: Hey, it’s Braxton. Did you enjoy the game?

  Gasping and looking around the room, like he’s actually here with me and not somewhere across town on his own phone, I don’t hide my smile. I suppose that’s a perk to being alone; nobody sees you when you’re embarrassed.

  Me: How’d you get my number?

  Braxton: I have my ways ;)

  Ummm… okay, that’s not creepy at all

  Braxton: I found it on your website. Hope it’s okay that I’m texting you.

  Me: I guess it’s too late if not. And yes, we did enjoy the game. My dad was thrilled to have such great seats. Thank you.

  Braxton: My pleasure. I’m glad you had fun and got to see us win the game.

  Me: You guys played awesome. Really good game. It was fun having someone to root for. The nice butt helped too ;)

  Crap, I probably shouldn’t have sent that. Too late to take it back now. I can always blame the beers at the game for my loose lips—or fingers in this case.

  Braxton: Hahaha, glad to be of service.

  Me: Who said I was talking about you?

  I laugh as I hit Send on that one. Nice save.

  Braxton: So which one of my teammates am I going to have to beat up?

  Shit. He called my bluff. Before I can come up with another witty response, another text pops up.

  Braxton: So what are you doing tomorrow?

  Me: Well, I’m moving tomorrow and probably going to scream and cuss while I put together all the IKEA furniture that is being delivered.

  Braxton: Well that sounds like a blast.

  Me: Yeah, so much fun. Not.

  Braxton: LOL. Where are you moving to?

  Me: Around the corner from my best friend. She got me a good deal on a two-bedroom in her complex.

  Braxton: Cool. Cool.

  Braxton: Well, have a good day tomorrow.

  Me: Thanks.

  I want to say come over and help, but I don’t want to seem like I’m reading too much into things. The man sent me apology tickets, nothing more.

  9

  * * *

  BRAXTON

  After a week on the road, sleeping in my own bed last night was a godsend. Of course, my bed was lonely and it would have been nice to have a warm body pressed up against me. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Sophie. Spencer may think I don’t listen to his advice, but I hear him. I just don’t always tell him that. After last year’s scandal and all the hard work I’ve put in to turn my reputation around, I’m not going to give it all up for a piece of ass. Even if it means I’m on the verge of death by blue balls.

  Tonight, I’m meeting Marion and our starting catcher, Tucker Collins, at our favorite hangout, Three Strikes. Remembering the last time I was there has me adjusting myself in my seat. Sophie Thomas has been on my mind more than I’ll ever admit to anyone. I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to recall a time I’ve seen her around, and haven’t come up with a single time. Sophie is the kind of woman you remember.

  My ride share pulls up in front of Three Strikes, and I thank the driver before exiting the SUV and confirming my fare and tip on the app. Since we have a late game tomorrow night, I don’t have to be to the stadium until late afternoon, and I am looking forward to kicking back and having a few drinks with the guys.

  Tucker texted me when I was on the way and confirmed they’re already here and in our usual spot. I enter the building and greet the hostess with a smile. Everyone who works here knows us, since Tuck’s brother owns the place. Nobody has confirmed it, but I can tell they’ve been instructed not to treat us any different because we’re professional athletes. Regardless, the teen can’t hide her blush.

  Crossing the room, I hear the whispers of customers and keep my head down, a slight grin on my face. Something Karen has instilled in all of us is to always assume we’re being photographed. To me, she’s hammered it home more than a reminder to confirm a woman’s age and always wear a condom. The latter a jab every time she says it.

  “Nice of you to join us. You know we aren’t getting any younger; we’re aging by the minute.” Tucker is always at the ready to give me a hard time. I’m surprised he did it at his own expense.

  “What can I say? Age before beauty. Couldn’t get here before you.”

  Sliding into the booth, I accept the beer Spencer offers and take a long drink. Damn, that tastes good. The guys and I settle into conversation, avoiding talking about our last series and the one we’re heading into. Another three games on the road and then we’re home for a long stretch. Thank God.

  “Good game last night, guys,” Chad, Tucker’s brother, greets as he pulls a chair up to the table.

  “Thanks,” we all reply, lifting our glasses in appreciation before taking a drink.

  “So what’s going on tonight? Late game tomorrow?” Chad asks.

  “Yup, and Brax here needs to get laid.”

  The guys bark out laughs as I simply shrug. It’s true and there’s no reason to deny it.

  “Oooh, looking for a one-night stand again, Brax? Don’t forget to wrap it up this time.” Chad has jokes.

  “Fuck you, dude.” I try to tamp down the anger his comment triggers, but I’m not sure I succeed. “I’ve never forgotten to wrap it up.”

  “We know, man, we know.” Marion’s tone is sympathetic, and I relax a bit.

  Needing to change the subject, I turn the tables and ask, “So how’s married life treating you, Chad?”

  “Married life is good.” His smile is ridiculously huge, and there’s no doubt he’s smitten with his new wife. We all attended his wedding a few months ago, and while I’m not necessarily a huge believer in all the hearts and flowers of a wedding, looking at Chad now, I can see the appeal of marriage.

  In the past, I’ve enjoyed attending weddings for the free booze and the attention of a bridesmaid or two. The sex is always good, but still, I usually find myself sneaking out before sunrise to avoid the dreaded Can I have your number? question.

  The guys continue to shoot the shit as my mind wanders back to Sophie. Specifically, her gorgeous lips and full ass. All this talk of getting laid has me imagining her bent over in front of me—naked.

  I must have a guardian angel, because there is no way I’m this lucky.

  Standing at the hostess stand with her friend… is Sophie. My eyes trace their moves as they’re seated. I can’t see much of them, but I do manage to spot a drink in each of their hands.

  When our server returns to our table to clear empty glasses and plates, I grab her attention. “I’d like to buy the ladies at that table their next drink.” She turns her head to follow the direction I’m pointing while the guys stand from their seats to look as well.

  When it’s just me and the guys, I turn my attention to them. “What?”

  “Is it the brunette or the blonde tonight?” Tucker asks.

  “That’s her,” I say.

  “Who?” Marion asks before anyone else gets a chance to.

  “The photographer from last week.”

  “Oooh,” Tucker says at the same time Marion spits out, “Fuck, dude, she’s hot.”

  I growl at him—yes, growl. I didn’t even mean to. He just laughs and puts his hand up in an I surrender gesture. Fact is, I know she’s sexy. It’s hard to ignore. But I don’t appreciate him, or anyone else, commenting on her body. I also choose not to read
too much into that thought.

  The guys continue to laugh and cut jokes, but my mind and eyes are on her. Sophie. We were only joking about me needing to get laid, but just seeing Sophie has me wondering if she’d be up for the challenge. It’s probably not the best idea to mix business with pleasure—and there would definitely be pleasure—but I’m not sure I can stop myself from trying.

  Please be single. Please be single.

  Watching their table as the drinks are delivered, I see her friend’s face light up like the Fourth of July, and Sophie shakes her head and motions the poor girl away. A feeling of nervousness rushes through my veins as I hold my breath when the server turns and points in my direction. Sophie’s eyes widen as I wave and smile. She doesn’t return the gesture and instead turns back around.

  I know she has turned down the gesture when the drinks are returned to the bar. Defeat isn’t something I deal with well. I’ve always been the best, worked the hardest to get where I am. When I sent those tickets for last week’s game, it was with a hope that we could put the negative first encounter behind us. Our text exchange seemed positive and friendly. Even though I wanted to, I didn’t text her again while I was gone.

  Our server returns to the table and leans down next to me.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee, but she said no thanks.”

  “That’s it?”

  Her smile doesn’t seem to reach its full potential. It’s sympathetic. Apologetic. I appreciate her discretion, but these fools I’m with have super hearing. It’s probably because they’re both parents.

  Why she isn’t accepting the drink is beyond me but it’s something I’m going to get to the bottom of. Downing the last of my beer, I pull a few bills from my wallet and toss them on the table before sliding from the booth.

  “Going somewhere?” Tucker asks before he and Marion start laughing.

  Assholes. Not offering a response, I lift my hand over my head and offer them a salute with my middle finger.

  10

  * * *

  SOPHIE

  Kendall continues to stare at me. Her eyes alternating between a narrow assessment and wide-eyed in surprise. No matter how much she tries, I can’t answer her question. Why did I refuse the drinks from Braxton? Truthfully, I don’t have a valid reason other than it was my immediate response, and before I could reconcile what I said, the server was gone.

  The gesture itself wasn’t unwelcome. It isn’t as though it was some sort of pickup attempt by a stranger. It was most likely another gesture of apology. I should send Braxton a drink to thank him for the amazing seats and the fun time my dad and I had at the game. If anyone should be making gestures of gratitude, it’s me.

  “Did you hear me?” Kendall snaps her fingers, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Uh… no, sorry,” I stammer. I didn’t realize she was even talking.

  “I said… he’s the perfect way for you to get over Jared.”

  Choking on the sip I just took from my glass, I cough a few times before turning my attention back to her.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “You know… the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

  “Oh. Yeah, that is not happening.”

  Rolling her eyes dramatically, Kendall rests her elbows on the table and leans forward like she’s about to say something scandalous.

  “Are you still mad at the hottie baseball player for being a dick at the photo shoot? I mean, he was a royal prick, and I’m sure his ego was out of control.”

  This time, I roll my eyes, take a tentative sip from my glass, and shake my head. “I told you he already apologized for being a jerk. And, have you seen him play? He should have a little bit of an ego. Don’t get me started on those baseball pants either.”

  Her lips purse like my admission is some sort of breakthrough. It’s a fact. Any person with two eyes can see Braxton Lee is an elite player and that his ass is prime.

  “Wait. Is that why you made me come out tonight? To get under someone?”

  “Maaaybe,” she says a little more wickedly than I’m comfortable with.

  “I hate you.”

  That isn’t true, but the look horror on her face is worth the fib. I can’t believe she wants me to hook up with some guy at a bar. I’ll give her credit though. If I were going to take the plunge, Braxton Lee would be an excellent option. He’s hot, and my lady bits do perk up and stand at attention when he’s around.

  “I fell down the rabbit hole of searching his name online. Braxton Lee is a bit of a playboy. He’s probably the type to fuck you six ways to Sunday then lose your number. He’s perfect. A few hours screaming his name and bam! You’ll feel better.”

  I jump at her exclamation. “Well, it was a drink to apologize. Don’t read too much into it. Besides, Braxton Lee is the type of guy who can get any woman he wants. He would have absolutely no interest in someone like me.”

  My proclamation holds no room for argument. Or so I thought. Because by the look of satisfaction on Kendall’s face, history is repeating itself.

  “Who said I wouldn’t want you?” Braxton asks from behind me.

  When I look up at him, he’s even sexier than my memory gave him justice. And like each time I’ve seen him, the lady bits are alert and aware of his close presence.

  “Hi,” Kendall greets while motioning for him to take the seat next to me. She not-so-subtly dances in her seat, sipping from her cocktail as the heat creeps up my neck, causing my internal temperature to rise.

  The heat coursing through my body has nothing to do with the fact that Braxton has taken a seat next to me and bumped my thigh with his knee. Nor is it that he has settled his hand on the back of my chair, his fingers grazing my skin as he does. There is no valid reason for my reaction to a simple brush of his body against mine. Yet, here I sit, my heart racing, and wondering if the air conditioning is broken.

  “What brings you ladies out tonight?”

  “Oh, just a little celebratory girl’s night. Sophie had a big day.”

  “Celebratory?” Braxton asks, his attention on me.

  I glare at Kendall before turning my attention to Braxton. “Not a big deal. I’m all moved into my new apartment, and that one,” I say, pointing at a smiling Kendall, “is happy to have me out of her place.”

  “That is certainly something to celebrate. More importantly, are you single?”

  Wait, what?

  “Excuse me?” I sputter.

  “I asked if you are single.”

  Ovaries everywhere just exploded with the smile he throws my way. That thing should be illegal.

  “She is,” Kendall states with an equally sly smile.

  If I didn’t know better, I would think they’re in cahoots. My best friend is fired. Not really, but it’s worth considering. Suddenly, I find myself the third wheel as Kendall and Braxton fall into easy conversation. When our food arrives, I pick at the fries on my plate. My mind is focused on his question, not really understanding his curiosity. I ignore the way his thumb rubs the skin on my back on occasion. He’s a big guy, and there isn’t much room at this table. He has nowhere else to rest his arm; it’s as simple as that. Or so I tell myself as my thoughts wander, only picking up pieces of their conversation until I hear Kendall says Jared’s name. That pulls my attention to the conversation and the fact that she just told Braxton my breakup story.

  “Shit, Sophie. I’m really sorry. And I just made it worse with the way I treated you.” Braxton places his hand on my arm, and it’s like a hot poker on my skin. My eyes jump from where he touches me to his eyes. Sincerity and sympathy look back at me.

  “I should be the one apologizing. I was unprofessional and allowed my personal life to interfere with my job.”

  Kendall is officially fired. I’m hanging up a Help Wanted sign for a new best friend. Why would she tell him about Jared?

  “So, you want to get out of here?” Braxton asks.

  The question catches me off guard, and
I don’t only drop my jaw and widen my eyes, but a very strange squeak creeps out of my throat. I look over at Kendall, who is nodding enthusiastically. Do I want to get out of here with Braxton Lee? My libido sure does.

  Blame it on the cocktails or the fact that having him this close and smelling his delicious scent is bringing to life a part of me that has been dormant for a long time.

  Looking into his eyes, any sense of hesitation I may have evaporates. My shoulders drop and my lips lift into a grin that matches his own. My response is a slight nod, which morphs his slight smile into one that reaches from ear to ear.

  Braxton stands, sliding his chair back before pulling his wallet from his pocket.

  “I’ve got it. You two run along,” Kendall says with a waggle of her brows.

  Slipping the wallet back in his pocket, he offers his hand, and I slide my palm against his. The feeling as he curls his fingers around mine is more than I want to acknowledge. I’ll just put that in my pocket for another time.

  “Can I call you a ride share?” he asks Kendall. The gesture hits me deep to my core, and again, I’ll deal with that later.

  “I’m good.”

  Without another word, Braxton leads me through the restaurant as he taps at something on his phone with one hand. When we reach the hostess stand, a man in a dress shirt is standing there watching us with wide eyes.

  “See ya, Chad.”

  “Bye, dude, be good.” As Braxton pushes the door open for me to pass, the guy adds, “You be nice to her.”

  Braxton laughs then says bye again before guiding me out the door, where I see a car waiting. My eyes jump to my… date?

  “Thank goodness for technology. Shall we?” he asks while opening the door to the sedan.

  If I get in this car, there is no turning back. I’m really doing this.

  Sliding into the back seat, I mess with the nonexistent lint on my jeans as Braxton settles in next to me. His presence takes up a lot of space in this back seat. Not that I’m complaining. Noticing my nervousness, he takes my hand and interlaces our fingers as the car moves through the streets. The car ride is quiet, neither of us speaking, and thankfully, our driver isn’t one of those fill the silence with chatter guys.